Nights in Hotels
by Mercury-Moon-7490195
Summary: Hotels never came with a lot of entertainment; they often had to make their own. Thiefshipping, post-canon, vagabonds universe.


Marik was staring out the large picture window, his eyes scanning the street far below their hotel. People looked so strange, so small from up so high, all milling around in the oncoming darkness like insects.

Hands snaked around his torso, Bakura's chin digging into his shoulder as he pressed himself up against him, face nestled in his hair. Marik glanced back, his hands falling over Bakura's.

"Can I help you?"

Bakura smiled, all teeth. "I think we can help each other," he murmured, nibbling at Marik's ear. "If you'll trust me."

Marik snorted. "Why would I start now?"

His lips moved down, pressing against Marik's neck over his hastening pulse. "Would you rather we just go through the same motions over and over again?" He smiled, catching Marik's eye in the window. "Don't you want to try something new?"

"New," Marik echoed, staring past the reflection out into the city once more. "What did you have in mind?"

Bakura's eyes gleamed. "Well, we're already here," he purred, pressing Marik firmly against the glass. "Why waste all that effort walking over to the bed?"

"Oh yes, all three feet to the bed," Marik sneered. "Takes so much work." His fingers splayed against the darkened windowpane, he tested his weight against the glass.

Bakura ground up against him, his breath hot against the back of his neck. "You think I'd let you fall?"

"In a heartbeat," Marik replied coolly, pulling away just slightly. He jerked out of his grasp as fingers slipped under his shirt, rolling it up. "And clothes stay _on, _thank you."

"Fair enough," Bakura grunted, his hands reversing and sliding under his waistband, caressing and kneading his ass. "If you don't want to give those below a show, then I guess I can just jerk you off quick and we can have done with it."

Marik spun, grabbing him by the collar. "You're an idiot," he hissed, lips poised just barely touching his. "You don't have to be naked to arouse someone." He whirled him around, slamming him against the window. "Surely I've taught you that by now."

Bakura laughed, a deep, throaty bark of amusement. "Maybe I need another lesson," he snorted, wrapping his arms around Marik's waist. "Just as long as you hurry it up."

Marik grabbed his arms and hoisted them above his head, pinning them to the glass. "The student does not rush the teacher," he retorted, hovering maddeningly over him. "Nor does he _touch _the teacher."

"You're such a fucking tease," Bakura hissed, thrusting his hips out wantonly. "I'm not going to stand here all night."

"You will if I tell you to," Marik said, a finger tracing Bakura's collarbone with a light, tantalizing touch. "You will if you want me."

His hand trailed achingly slowly down his chest, _too _slowly for the erection straining at Bakura's jeans. The fabric rubbed uncomfortably against the sensitive skin of his cock, though it was more stimulation than Marik's hands were giving him.

"You're so impatient," Marik's fingers hovered over his belt, is grin only widening at Bakura's frustration. "You'll never get off that way."

"Then quit fucking around!"

Marik's hand dove into his pants, grabbing Bakura by the cock and pulling him into a passionate kiss. He pumped him rapidly, swallowing his moans with a hungry tongue. Bakura squirmed, trying to break from his grasp.

"Fu-ck," he gasped, bucking into Marik's hand. "Dammit Marik-"

"Are you getting close?"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" Bakura spat, his back arching against the glass. "I can hang on as long you can."

"Oh really?" Marik raised an eyebrow, pulling his hand back and smirking. "Then maybe there's no point, if you're just going to hold out on me-"

Bakura lunged, barely held back by Marik's hand. "Don't you _dare,_" he growled, his eyes glinting murderously. "Don't you dare."

"Is that all you can say," Marik teased, hovering just out of reach. "What about a 'Please?'"

"Go fuck yourself!"

"Oh with that attitude I will. Like you'll actually get to touch me, the way you're behaving now."

Bakura howled with frustration, his eyes burning into Marik's. "FINISH ME, DAMMIT."

Marik smirked, his grip slackening for a moment, knowing a moment was all it would take. Bakura lunged, tackling him onto the polished floor. They skidded a few inches, tangled in each other's limbs. Marik scrambled to push off of the foot of the bed, trying to gain enough traction to scramble on top of his partner. Bakura pushed back, his momentum only sending him rolling off of Marik.

With a triumphant cry, Marik dove, pinning an arm to the floor with his knee. He darted in to kiss the spot at the base his neck that never failed to drive him crazy. As Bakura went to push him away, he caressed the bulge between his legs, rubbing it rapidly until he cried out, cumming violently against Marik's hand. He fell back against the floor, swearing under his breath. Marik rolled away, a smirk on his face as he watched Bakura's face.

"Better?"

"Fuck you," Bakura breathed, closing his eyes. "You're a bastard, Marik Ishtar."

Marik laughed. "Don't I know it," he murmured, leaning in to kiss him passionately on the lips. Bakura pulled in towards him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and bringing his lips to his ear.

"Just you wait," he muttered darkly. "I still need to get you off...and I know things that'll make you scream my name for the whole world to hear."

Marik chuckled, pushing his hair out of his face. "That'll be the day," he said. "But you're welcome to keep trying."


End file.
